Living with a Narcissistic Parent and Invisible Illness

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Truth Is Denied 


Some people are born into homes where love is the anchor. Others are born into war zones wearing invisible armor.


Living with a narcissistic parent is like constantly auditioning for approval that never comes. You grow up being made to feel like your feelings are “too much,” your needs are “dramatic,” and your memories — especially the painful ones , are just “made-up stories.” When you try to talk about your invisible illness, you’re met with disbelief. Not concern. Not compassion. Just denial, blame, or worse — silence...

For me, it’s not just about my health... though that’s hard enough. It’s the emotional battlefield that comes with it. Having siblings who were unknowingly pitted against each other by the very person meant to nurture unity adds another layer of pain. It creates a household of competition and confusion instead of connection. Now, as adults, that damage runs deep. The bond that should be natural feels strained or completely missing.


I can’t speak my truth without it being turned into an attack. I can’t open up about what I endured without being labeled sensitive or crazy. When I say, “I hurt,” they hear, “You’re a bad person,” even if that’s not what I’m saying. So I retreat — anxious, physically aching, and carrying the heavy weight of emotional rejection.


The worst part? They act like it never happened. Like my memories aren’t real. Like the nights I cried myself to sleep were figments of my imagination. Like the fear, the silence, the manipulation, the invalidation — none of it mattered.

But I remember.


And I don’t need their permission to tell my story.

Without my husband — the one who sees through the mess and holds me through every storm — and my friend who knows the rawest, most broken parts of me and still stays — I don’t know where I’d be. These two are the reason my brain isn’t mashed from the constant gaslighting and dismissal. They are my safe spaces. My proof that love can be real, understanding is possible, and connection doesn’t have to come with conditions.


To anyone reading this and silently nodding — I see you. You’re not alone. Your pain is real, even if the people who caused it refuse to admit it. Your illness is valid, even if they can’t see it. And your story deserves to be told — in your voice, on your terms.

Speak your truth. Not everyone will listen — but the right ones will hear you.


Follow me on twitter for updates https://x.com/FlareflourishF


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